


Shepherd of the New Stars

by chommki, ToothPasteCanyon (DannyFenton123)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Demon Summoning, Demons, Gen, Post-God!cor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24576454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chommki/pseuds/chommki, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyFenton123/pseuds/ToothPasteCanyon
Summary: After eons of grief and death and suffering, Alcor was finally at peace. The universe had started anew from the ashes of the old, and his Flock had become the angels and demons of this strange new world.For Groknar the Destroyer, it seemed easier to be a follower than a leader.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	Shepherd of the New Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was cowritten by ToothPasteCanyon and chommki!

In typical demon-summoning fashion, the ritual took place in the dark basement of a seemingly normal household. The windows were blocked with yellowing packaging tape, and white candles surrounded a chalk-drawn summoning circle.

And in a slight breeze, the murmurs of a dead language snuffed out just like the numerous small flames sitting on candle wick. The air had grown thick and cold, like moisture trapped in a sealed jar. The group of robed-summoners seemed to inch closer together, still holding their breath for an unseen entity. And in the darkness, a single yellow eye had opened.

A figure loomed from the circle’s center, doubling the height of the humans who stood slack-jawed in its presence. Something gleamed in the bare amount of light allowed from the taped window; It shimmered a multitude of colors, constantly swirling like oil spilled on asphalt during midnight, illuminated by a streetlight.

“Y̶̳̦͠ͅo̵͈͐̓̈́̕ū̶̢ ̶̛̝̣̭̗̍̚D̴͎̥̃̿̕A̶̠͊Ṟ̶̛͑̈͘Ë̶͖̮̯́̄͠ ̷͉̬̊̈́̔t̶͈̻̼͑͗͜õ̸͕ ̸̢̗̗̾̿ͅş̵̡̌̾ṳ̷̢̢͒͋m̵̜͊̈́̃̚m̵͚̖̠̘̂̇͗õ̶̖̎n̶̨̆ ̵͕̲̰̩̉̅́G̴̯̬͇͊r̷͚͊o̵͈̝̝̪̓͋͂k̵̰̪̈́̈́͂n̷͕̠̹̞̈́ā̷̢̨̻͋͋r̴̰̞̲̝̈́̐̈͊ ̸̻̮̗̥́ẗ̷̛̙́̀͌h̷̢͆̓̇̈́͜e̷̻̱͔̱͒̇͝ ̴̛͙̇̅͑D̷͕̅͐e̸̛͚͕̹̦̎s̵̺̾̾t̷͎͖̹͛́̌͘ŗ̶͖͗͜o̶̙̞͚̪͋̐̊̓y̴̥e̴̟͓̎̿͆̆r̶̗̋ ẅ̸̡͖͇̪̇i̶̗̟̟̫̔̀̅t̵̫̜͐h̶͉̆ a̸̩͆̿ f̴͉͊̈́̈́͠a̸̩̖͋̃ü̷͍̕l̴̻͆̾̓t̴̟͙̰̻͂͑̌y̸̩̖͙͆ č̶̫͋̐i̸͍̠̝̔̅̋͠ͅr̵͇͙̖̝͑͛̒̕c̴̨̻̙̫̍l̷̨̘̱̀̓e̷̦̓̌?̷̲̯̒̈” The reverb of the demon’s voice rang through the summoners’ heads, the edges of a snarl keeping them frozen stiff under the chilling atmosphere. Something whipped across the air— A tail? —as the voice of the occult creature boomed again without letting the mortals muster their courage.

“N̸̢̥͚͆O̸̱͎̦̯̿ ̵̬͈̊̈̒ ̶͈̮͕́a̵͎̓ ̶̱͆̈́͊͝n̴̺̜͍̒̿̋͋ ̷̣͕͓͠ͅs̸̼͊͝ ̴̹̇̉̕w̸̨̳̙͗̈́̒̎ ̷̢̢͚̾̔̄e̴̪͛ ̷̢̨̹͐͛r̶̹͉̦̦̂̌̚ ̸̖̭̳̈́s̵̫̗̺̓̓͠ ̵̨̖͉̥͋͘?̶̢̹̲̭̏͐̉” A gleeful fury seemed to coil around those two words.

Noise rippled throughout the cluster of humans before a smaller robed-figure was pushed forward. Two white candles lit themselves, fire colored black this time, in between Grognak and the summoner. Swallowing, she spoke.

“O-O, Grognak the… Great Destructor!” The eye narrowed, though the brave little mortal still stood. “I m-must inquire… What wrong have you found in our handiwork? Every detailed has bee—”

Sharply, a stomp (sounding not unlike a hoof) cut her short. The flames seemed to sit still as the slivers of uncovered skin paled in shades.

“Has been t̸͚̬̳͠h̸̹̏͑͝ǒ̴͈̾͜r̶̘̀̿̚ö̸̪̭̝̏͝u̵̮͓̘̺͘g̶̼͈̈̎͝h̷̜̽̚l̶͖̖̼̰̾̅̐͝ÿ̴̟̟̣̋͗ ä̵̺̆n̸̳͆͝d̵̮͎́̀̒̋ im̵̰̕m̵͕͍̦͓͂̃͘͘à̷̧̤̥̠̊c̴̙͓̞̜͂ȗ̷̱͖͈̒̚l̵͈͋̍͊͆ả̸͈̼͂̚ṭ̴̈́͜ẹ̴̖͙̼̄l̵̛̻̈́̓͝y̸͖̠̥͒̽ s̴̩͓̊t̵̼͊u̸̩̍d̴̝̈̚i̷͚̍ḛ̸̃d̴̰̬̑͋̒͝ f̴̙͇̕͝o̷͎̞͆ŕ̶͕͔̎͜ o̴̦̮͊͂́͜͜ṷ̴̜̅̒r̶̮̓̏̈ g̶̪̩̖̥̔͌̓͘r̷̝͉̈́͑͆̋͜e̴̢̻͋a̴̡̞͕̙͊̈́̄̋t̷̝̤̏̂̓,̸̳͕̤͓̈́̌ ̵̟͓̓̓̐g̵̨̟̤͍͊́̆͝r̷̟̆̈́̆̋ë̶̪́͗͛̂a̴̰͛̔͝t̶̖̉̄̏͐ ̷̛̭͉̐͝M̴̠̬̥̻̔̈́a̶̡̛̜͂͑́s̷̨͉̝͐͘͜ť̵͖̮̈́̓͜ȇ̵̖̗r̶͕͓̯̬̾̔̑?̶̯̪̜̽͆  _ Surely, _ if you had done so as you ĉ̷̳̜̣̊l̴̞̠̎ā̸͔̈́̈́i̶̢͉̘̠̋͆m̷͓͖͇͛̆̓̚,” The click of hooves on concrete resounded as the demon, much to the humans’ horror, crossed their binding circle. “You would remember t̷͉͈̝͇̉h̵̩͈̣̜̎̉̾̈a̷̤̺͕̔̀ͅt̵̤̆͠ ̵̤̜͙̠͂͆̈̿Ỉ̷͖̒ r̶̟͊e̸̖̔q̶̡̩͔͗ǘ̵̘͙i̴͔͎̪͌̎ŗ̸̨̟̜͌e̴̩͙̦͆̽͛ ä̶̹́̿̒̀n̸̛͉̣͊͊ e̶͚̊́̍̕ͅx̷̧̩̹͆̉̔a̶͙̤̺̗͝c̸̤̗͛t̸̯̟̄́̀ 6̸͚̭̻̅0̵̹̦͈̖̇̿͑͠8̶̛͙͈̳̍͋.̶̟͍̈͑̕͝9̵͖̺̣̤̃͋̑9̷̛̻̣̐̂̿0̸̪̘̬̈̈́̕4̴͍̯͛̂̏ c̶̟͎͚̤̅͆̐ȩ̶̞̻̲͘n̴̥̤̱͓̈̉͊͘t̷̺̬̫̊̓̋i̴̡̤͌̒̇m̵͚͋̽e̶̲͎͒̅͐͠t̵̤̻̤̚e̴͇̚r̵͕̰͗͑ d̶̛̳͖̭͆͒i̷̧̘͙͆a̴̛̦͓͍̿͠m̶̂͜é̸̩͖̈́͠t̵̛̖̲̬͉͗͒̈́ȅ̸͎̕r̶̨͕̪͙̍̂̕ t̵̰̣̾o̸̤̝̍ b̶̡̙̈̉̿͊ë̷̻́ c̵̹̹͖̾o̸͓̫͇̼n̵̪̗͐̓͂t̷͇̽̌͝a̸̪̒͐i̸̡̟̥̳͗n̷̡̼̅͌ē̴͎̠̇͆d̵̬̠͋.̵̖͌”

Groknar lifted two clawed hands and pulled down his rainbow-oil-slick beard; Underneath were several rows of sharp teeth, wet with drool and very, very eager for the taste of  _ blood _ .

* * *

Home. It was an alien concept to most demons, but Groknar had a home, and it was a grassy field under a blood red sky. It was a strangely peaceful place; the grass did groan in agony beneath his feet, and a river of burning blood did cut through the field, but compared to the hellscapes other demons created for themselves, it was almost calming. Sheep dotted the landscape, grazing silently, reminding Groknar of a different place, a different time.

He grunted at this, and licked the blood off his lips.

“Master.”

One of the Flock had appeared before him. Its tone: restrained, but urgent. Groknar straightened.

“May I speak?” Asked the nightmare, and he waved a hand.

“Yes, you may.”

“We sensed another demon encroaching on your territory, Master.”

“I see.” He stroked his beard. “Is it Cyadine the Sallow again?”

“No. A new challenger. Ragnash.”

At that, Groknar showed his teeth. Ragnash - that was a powerful name. He had heard through the grapevine that this demon was looking to expand his claim of the Mindscape. If they fought… his omniscience told him either could win.

The grass wailed softly, and the wind blew, and Groknar only felt a faint trace of Ragnash when he cast his mind around his territory. He pondered on this for a moment.

“That is displeasing,” Groknar said. Then he looked up at the nightmares grazing in the distance, and furrowed his brow. “For the time being, I order my Flock to stay within the inner bounds of my territory.”

He did not shout, but the air  _ shimmered _ and the Flock was now crowded around him. He gave a nod. Good - he would not have some upstart demon stealing what was  _ his _ .

Yes. It was good. He might have to strike a deal with Lolonja later, but for now, everything was okay.

It didn’t make him feel less on edge, though. He glanced down at his Flock, grazing peacefully all around him, and gave a soft growl that almost sounded like a sigh.

It was… difficult. Being the master. It felt great to be so powerful, yes, but with it came those that wanted to use him for it, wanted to take it from him. Groknar never had to worry about this in the previous universe.

At that, he gave a grim smile. Demons did not tend to miss their weaker forms, but he had to admit there was something more carefree about being Alcor’s nightmare. He thought back to all the trillions of years his Master had let him graze in his fields, spar with Darcrack and Acrimony under his trees, exist in peace under his protection.

_ Peace.  _ That was something Groknar had so little of these days. Even now, he could feel himself being pulled to the next summons; he huffed, straightened his suit… and paused, to linger just a few seconds longer in his home.

The breeze fluttered in his beard. The grass felt soft and springy under his hooves. His own Flock grazed around him, and did not flinch when he reached out to touch their coats.

It was peaceful, here. Groknar hoped his old Master had found a similar sort of peace, under some human guardian’s watchful eye. It would certainly be a peace he deserved.

Groknar thought that, and then stood up straight, ran his claws through his beard, and blipped away from his home.

**Author's Note:**

> Zalgo translations:
> 
> "You DARE to summon Groknar the Destroyer with a faulty circle?"
> 
> "NO a n s w e r?"
> 
> "Has been thoroughly and immaculately studied for our great, great Master? Surely, if you had done as you so claim,"  
> "You would remember that I require an exact 608.9904 centimeter diameter to be contained."


End file.
